


Keeping It Quiet

by samwho



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Baker Street, Case Fic, Clothes swap, Established Relationship, Fluff, John's Jumpers, Johnlock - Freeform, Johnlock Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Purple Shirt of Sex, Scotland Yard, Secret Relationship, Sharing Clothes, Teasing, Yarders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-26
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2018-01-02 17:50:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1059759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samwho/pseuds/samwho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John considers himself straight. Completely heterosexual. And he is, if you ignore the fact that his partner is Sherlock Holmes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping It Quiet

John woke up to a very strange feeling - not the soft, warm arms of a woman but the cold bony arms of the one and only Sherlock Holmes. He still could not believe that after all the attempts of denying that he was NOT on a date with the taller man, that they were just friends and he most definitely was not gay, the doctor was indeed in love for his flatmate.

Scotland Yard would have a field day (and more likely hand over a few quid to Lestrade if John had heard right about the bets) if they found out, which is why the pair kept quiet about the whole business (well, John insisted Sherlock keep quiet, he'd spent far too long denying the allegations of bumming Sherlock to give it all up now). 

Of course, Mycroft knew instantly with his damned secret cameras everywhere, and sent them flowers along with a bottle of wine. If Mycroft was watching, no, spying on 221b at the time, he would've seen the gifts being chucked out of the window. John had been meaning to pick up the broken glass on the pavement; it really was a safety hazard but Sherlock kept distracting him (not that John was complaining).

It was 4 the morning. Sherlock's phone was endlessly pinging with texts from Lestrade about a new case, and John finally gave in.

"’Lock, wake up” he mumbled with his own eyes still shut, “case.”

With only an indistinct grumble as a reply, John reluctantly heaved himself out of bed and halfheartedly yelled in the consulting detective's ear.

"RISE AND SHINE, THERE ARE CORPSES TO BE IDENTIFIED AND MURDERERS TO BE CAUGHT". He was surprised at how normal those words sounded in his ears, perhaps he ought to take up Mike's offer for a pint. It would be normal, which was the exact opposite of his life since he had met the enigma called Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock waved his hand as though dismissing John's very words out of the air, and continued to stretch across the bed like an overgrown cat. Although the man rarely slept, when he did he went all out. A sudden ringing from John’s phone pierced the doctor's ears.  
"Yes, yes, alright calm down! We're on our way." John spluttered to a stressed sounding Lestrade as he scrambled around in the dark for his clothes. He felt them lying on the haphazardly floor, and his cheeks flushed after remembering the previous night. Grabbing the nearest thing he could, John pulled the clothes on (he couldn't pinpoint why, but his clothes felt different), pulled back the duvet (much to the chagrin of a certain consulting detective) and unceremoniously dumped the remaining clothes on his head.

5 minutes later...

John stood waiting by the door to 221b as Sherlock came rushing down the stairs while tying his signature navy scarf around his neck "Finally John, a case!”  
With that, the pair hailed a cab (they seemed to mysteriously appear as soon as Sherlock raised his hand, and John had a sneaking suspicion Mycroft was behind this) to the other end of London. 

At the crime scene...

"The body's through there, I've got you 5 minutes" barked Detective Inspector Lestrade as soon as he saw them hurrying towards him.

Inside, Sherlock bent down, analysing the body on the floor. John stood by the door; he was still amazed by the man's deductions and it was fascinating to watch the gears turn in his head.

"I suspect the brother; secret affair with his wife, what do you see John?"

As the doctor knelt beside his friend (what were they now, boyfriends?) and explained the cause of death "Asphyxiation, you can see from the marks", he felt hot and shrugged off his coat. 

A stifled snigger was heard from behind him.  
John ignored it. 

Someone from the forensics team whispered his name.  
John ignored it. 

Someone muttered "Freak's pet" and John turned around.

"Have you got nothing better to do Anderson?" 

Sergeant Donovan turned around from Anderson and gave a toothy grin "Do you wear each other's clothes often?"

John's eyes widened with confusion as he looked down. He was indeed wearing a certain purple shirt, and he turned to look at Sherlock (who by now had removed his coat) - the man was wearing a far-too-short familiar oatmeal coloured jumper.

"I swear it's not what it-  
Sherlock grabbed the back of John's neck and when their lips met, they forgot about the entirety of Scotland Yard gaping at them, they forgot about keeping quiet about the whole business and they forgot about everything apart from that very moment. 

Anderson violently coughed in the background, Donovan just stared at them with an expression of disbelief and Lestrade smirked knowingly saying "I do believe you all owe me a tenner."

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever fanfiction, how did you find it?
> 
> Thanks for reading,  
> -Sam


End file.
